


Last Christmas

by Shadowheartdesigns (shadowkitten)



Category: Princess Principal (Anime)
Genre: Canon Divergence, Champagne, Christmas, F/F, Nobody Dies, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-11
Updated: 2017-12-11
Packaged: 2019-02-13 10:39:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,091
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12982290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shadowkitten/pseuds/Shadowheartdesigns
Summary: What if?What if Prefect hadn't been a Double Agent?What might have happened, that one Christmas, had Prefect not fled, and had Dorothy come back.





	Last Christmas

**Author's Note:**

> Canon divergence fic. It will be accused of being a fixfic. So be it. Takes place instead of the second half(ish) of episode 10. The title is a reference to the Doctor Who 2014 Christmas special, that by pure coincidence I happened to watch right about the same time as "Comfort Comrade" (Yay Netflix!). Yeah, the story started writing itself shortly afterward.

Eleanor closed the door behind her with a sigh. That was rough. Seeing her again. And tonight of all nights. And business. No, not all business, was it?

With another sigh, she pulled her hat off, and hung it on the coat-rack beside her door.

She glanced around her room. Her bookcases. She sighed again.

“Happy Christmas,” she whispered to herself.

Slowly, her heart growing heavier with each step, she walked across her room, to the kitchen. She opened a cupboard. She looked at a bottle that sat there. She pondered it for a moment. She shook her head, and closed it again.

“New Years. I have had enough tonight.”

She walked to the table beside her bed, and took off her glasses. Then she walked into her washroom, to the sink. She turned on the tap, holding her hands under the water until it was warm, but not hot. She closed her eyes, leaned down, and splashed the water over her face several times. She gasped in air, and reached blindly for a towel.

That helped. A little.

She stripped down to her skin, and pulled on a thick, warm cotton nightdress. Then she put her glasses back on. She looked over her many books. So many were related to her current job: “The Life of Horatio Nelson.” “The Golden Hind.” “A Concise History of the Royal Navy.” "A Tactical Analysis of the Battle of the English Channel."

She shook her head. No. She wanted to get away from her job. No books about ships, or about spies.

Her hand ran across the spines of the books in her selection of novels. Her hand stopped. Well, it wasn’t a novel. More of a novella, with a few short stories published to pad out the book. The title brought a smile to her lips. It was appropriate, considering. She pulled it out. It had green leather cover, with gold lettering and dark green and red decorations. It looked more expensive than it was.

She walked over to her table, sat, and opened the book.

As she read, her mood darkened. Pressure contracted around her head. She took her glasses off, massaging the bridge of her nose. She sighed, marked her place in the book with a ribbon, and closed it. 

She was about to crawl into bed, when there was a knock at her door. She frowned, glancing briefly at the clock on the mantle of her fireplace.

The knocking repeated, louder. Insistent.

“Just a moment,” she called out, exasperated.

At this hour?

She rose, put her glasses on, and padded over to the door. Making sure the chain was fastened, she unlocked it and opened it a crack.

“Happy Christmas!”

She blinked. It was a familiar face. Lavender eyes. Pretty smooth skin. Long silky brown hair. A huge silly grin on lips that always looked so very soft.

“Dorothy?”

Her grin widened, her eyes closed, and she waved.

“Yo!”

Eleanor blinked again.

“Hello?”

She stood there for a moment, staring.

Dorothy's grin collapsed, and she shifted uncertainly.

“So … can I come in, or ….”

“Oh, right! Sorry.”

She closed the door, and glanced around the room. Then down at herself. Her cheeks turned pink. She wasn’t exactly dressed for guests. Then again … this wasn't a guest, it was  _Dorothy_ .

There was another knock at the door, startling Eleanor out of her reverie. She hastily pulled the chain off, and opened the door.

Dorothy sauntered across the threshold, with a soft laugh.

“Thought maybe you were brushing me off there.”

“That would have been quite impossible, I assure you.”

Dorothy took off her hat, and threw it in the general direction of the coat rack. It landed on the floor with a soft, indignant whumfh. Eleanor stared at it for a moment.

“Here!”

Dorothy pulled a thin box out of a deep pocket, and shoved it in Eleanor’s face, It was wrapped in red and green striped wrapping paper and tied off with a yellow ribbon.

Eleanor flinched back and blinked in surprise.

“For you!”

“Ah. Dorothy, you really should not have. I haven’t anything for you.”

Dorothy smirked.

“That doesn’t matter, Eleanor. Just take it."

“Well ... alright. Thank you Dorothy.”

Eleanor took the box, and Dorothy grinned widely. She wandered into the flat, looking around with a mock-serious expression.

“Love what you’ve done with the place. It’s so … you.”

“Thank you?”

Eleanor closed and locked her door. She watched Dorothy for a moment as she strolled over to the table, glancing down at the book that sat there.

“Oh, _Christmas Carol_. That’s the one with the ghosts, right?”

Eleanor smiled, gazing fondly at Dorothy.

“Something like that.”

Dorothy sat down in one chair, crossed her legs, and slapped her knee.

“Okay, time to open your present!”

Eleanor shook her head,

“I wonder who is more excited for me to open it?”

Dorothy laughed, her grin wide.

“Oh come on, Eleanor, just open it.”

“Alright, alright.”

She sat down in the other chair, and untied the ribbon. She set it on the book, then began loosening the tape holding the paper on.

Dorothy watched her, fidgeting. She pulled the book over to her, looking at the cover. She glanced up, to see Eleanor remove the paper, careful not to tear it, then start to fold it neatly.

“Oh come on, quit stalling!”

Eleanor rolled her eyes, her smile widening.

“Yes, you truly are more excited.”

“Whatever, just open it!”

Eleanor laughed softly.

"Alright. Alright!"

She pulled the lid off the box. Dorothy's eyes went wide in anticipation, leaning forward.

"You  _do_ know what it is, yes?" Eleanor asked with a smirk.

"I wanna see your reaction!"

Eleanor shook her head, and set the lid on the table. White paper was folded over whatever was in the box. She pushed it to one side.

There was a folded knit cloth. She picked it up, letting fall open to its full length. There were alternating bands of maroon and dark yellow and green. At either end, there were short tassels with colored puff-balls.

"It's a scarf!" Dorothy shouted excitedly.

"So I see," Eleanor said, dubiously inspecting it. "It's rather ... small."

Dorothy blushed, and sat back, with a shrug.

"Well ... I mean, it's what I could find. I mean, it isn't easy getting a gift this late at night, on Christmas no less."

"I see."

"You hate it," Dorothy said in a quiet, disappointed voice.

"Utterly," Eleanor replied with a mischievous grin.

"Hey! You're supposed to shake your head and say, 'No Dorothy, I love it!' You know, lie your ass off!"

Eleanor laughed.

"Well, to be honest, I do appreciate the thought. And ... well, I suppose it will accessorize well."

"There ya go!" Dorothy grinned.

Eleanor stood up, wrapped the scarf around her neck, and struck a pose. Dorothy giggled, and clapped her hands.

"Lovely!" she said.

Eleanor shook her head, unable to keep from giggling herself. Then she pulled the scarf off, and walked over to the coat rack.

Dorothy watched her bend down and pick her hat from the floor, then hang both up. She stood there for a moment, looking at the scarf.

Dorothy tilted her head.

"Well," Eleanor said, turning slowly. "Actually, there is something that I can give you."

Dorothy's grin turned lewd, and Eleanor shook her head.

"Not that! I swear, you have a one-track mind."

"I resent that! I have at least two tracks. Granted, both lead to the same station."

Eleanor rolled her eyes, but she smiled fondly.

"Anyway. Wait there. I will be right back."

Dorothy shrugged, watching her pad out of the room, and into the kitchen.

She idly opened the book to a random page, chuckled, and read aloud a line that caught her eye:

" 'You will be haunted,' resumed the Ghost, 'by Three Spirits.' "

Eleanor walked back into the room, holding a bottle.

"What was that?"

" 'I—I think I'd rather not,' said Scrooge,' " Dorothy continued to read, in an overly theatrical voice.

Eleanor smiled.

"I see."  
"Or put another way," Dorothy said with a grin, " 'Christmas? Bah, humbug!' "

Eleanor shook her head, and sat the bottle down on the table. Dorothy turned to look at it.

"Actually, he never says that in the story."

Dorothy shrugged, not especially interested in a literary discussion. Instead, she picked up the bottle. It was green glass, and had a silvery label with red and green lettering proudly displaying the name. It was genuine Champagne.

"Oh, nice."

"It's the good stuff, yes. I did not skimp."

"I see that. Who'd you plan on sharing this with?"

Eleanor shrugged, and sat down again.

"Myself, I suppose. As we shared a drink, or twenty-seven, I decided to save it instead for another time."

"Ah."

"That is, until you showed up with a scarf."

"A hideous abomination of cloth that you will burn once I'm gone."

Eleanor smirked.

"Naturally. Still, one must be polite."

Dorothy laughed, and began to pull the gold foil off the neck of the bottle.

"I had expected you to be eager to open this gift."

Dorothy grinned and winked at her.

"I never say no to a good drink."

The foil off, and tossed haphazardly to the floor, she then grasped the cork. She twisted and tugged on it.

"I can get that," Eleanor said hurriedly, "will you go and get us glasses?"

"Huh? Oh, okay."

Dorothy handed the bottle to Eleanor, and stood up, trotting to the kitchen.

She opened several cupboards. Looking for appropriate glasses. She frowned, suddenly impatient, and finally grabbed the first thing she could, two porcelain mugs, and trotted back into the main room.

At that same time, Eleanor finally eased the cork out of the bottle. It came free with a soft, anticlimactic pop, and thin wispy mists of alcohol vapor.

Dorothy laughed.

"That is so you! Me, I'd have yanked it out so it made as much noise as possible!"

"Yes, and you would also have lost half the Champagne. And spent your Christmas mopping my floor."

Dorothy giggled, and sat back down, placing the mugs on the table. Eleanor regarded them dubiously.

"Coffee mugs?"

"Yeah, it was all I could find."

"Seriously? Please tell me that you are at least  _slightly_ more observant when on a mission."

"Bah! I didn't wanna spend all night trying to find your fine crystal."

Eleanor shook her head, and sighed.

"Fine. I suppose it will do."

"Yeah, they'll be just fine. Now pour it out!"

Eleanor nodded, and poured the champagne. into the two mugs. Her expression darkened into a dubious frown, as she lifted the coffee mug.

Dorothy grinned, and lifted hers eagerly.

"Cheers!"

"Cheers," Eleanor responded, tapping her mug against Dorothy's. It made a dull  _thunk_ !

Eleanor blinked. Dorothy shrugged.

And Eleanor giggled. Dorothy grinned widely.

"Oh my God ... this is really not what I had expected my Christmas to be like," Eleanor laughed.

Dorothy nodded. Her her grin melted. She glanced down into her mug, and took a sip.

Eleanor noticed this, and her expression turned serious. She drank from her mug, and set it down.

"Dorothy?"

She shrugged, and set her mug down.

"Good stuff," she said.

"Well, yes. However, you do not appear to be happy."

Dorothy glanced up at Eleanor.

"I just ... I mean, I didn't expect to have the kind of Christmas I've had either."

"The mission," Eleanor whispered.

Dorothy nodded, and took another drink.

"Yeah. You don't know the half of it," she stated.

"You sound bitter. There were no complications, were there? You retrieved the documents."

"Yeah. It went off flawlessly."

Eleanor nodded.

"It rather looks as though you failed."

"No. No, not at all. I mean ... well, it didn't go at all like I thought. Or ... or feared it would."

Eleanor frowned, and took another drink.

"I feel as though you are not talking about the same mission."

"I'm not."

Eleanor looked at her, and noticed Dorothy avoiding her gaze.

"What? Talk to me, Dorothy."

"We ... I probably shouldn't say anything."

"Please?"

Dorothy shrugged.

"We ... kinda got word that you weren't really on our side, you could say."

A look of shock, even offense, crossed Eleanor's face.

"What?  _Me_ , a double agent?"

Dorothy looked back at her, despite her cheeks turning red.

"I didn't believe it. I prayed, honestly  _prayed_ , that it was wrong."

"And it was," Eleanor stated firmly.

"Yeah. Thank Christ," Dorothy whispered, fidgeting. She glanced down at the book on the table again.

Eleanor reached out, and placed her hand on Dorothy's. 

"So don't act as though you failed. I mean, unless you would  _rather_ me be a double agent? I can retrieve my gun ...."

Dorothy looked up, eyes wide.

"No! Eleanor, don't even joke like that."

Eleanor grinned.

"Just making the offer."

Dorothy placed her other hand atop Eleanor's. They both blinked, their faces reddening just a touch.

They both looked at their hands. Eleanor, shivering, placed her hand atop Dorothy's. Half expecting Dorothy to make a joke, and laugh about it. Instead, she shifted her hands, gently clasping Eleanor's. Their fingers interlocked. And Dorothy smiled. It was a soft, gentle expression. So unlike her, Eleanor thought.

They stayed that way for a moment. Looking at each other. Smiling. 

Then Dorothy pulled back one hand, and grasped the handle of her mug. Eleanor did likewise, and they both lifted them up.

"Cheers," Dorothy whispered, squeezing Eleanor's hand.

"Cheers."

They drank.

Dorothy released Eleanor's hand, grabbed the bottle, and refilled her mug. She glanced at Eleanor, who nodded. She filled hers also.

"So. Dorothy."

Dorothy smirked.

"Yes, Prefect?"

Eleanor sighed.

"Here, I am trying to be serious, and you ...."

"Sorry," Dorothy said, grin implying otherwise.

Eleanor shook her head.

"Dorothy."

"Eleanor?"

"Better. Do you remember, earlier this evening when I asked you if you looked up to someone?"

"Oh, yeah. I was wondering what you were getting at."

"I just ... it's difficult to discuss."

"Yeah," Dorothy said quietly. "Look, I guess I can understand. Who else would number two look up to, right?"

Eleanor's eyes went wide.

"No, Dorothy, I ...."

"It's gotta be Ange," Dorothy said quietly. "I mean, if I were to look up to anyone, it'd be her."

Eleanor sighed, and took a fairly long drink of her Champagne.

"Look, Eleanor," Dorothy continued, "I dunno how I feel about that. I mean, I guess I can help you get in good with her. Or try to anyway. But you have to stop your act of not liking ...."

"Dorothy!"

She blinked.

"Yes, Prefect?"

"You."

"Me?"

Eleanor nodded, setting her mug down somewhat harder than she intended. Dorothy jolted in surprise.

"It's you."

"What's me?"

Eleanor sighed in frustration.

"You are the one that I have admired."

Dorothy blinked.

"What?"

They were quiet for a moment.

"Dorothy, you were always so easy-going. Relaxed and carefree. You ... you remember what happened that Christmas, right?"

"Oh, where you lost our target?"

"And we went to a funfair."

Dorothy giggled.

"And Ange totally saved our asses. Yeah, sure."

Eleanor's cheeks turned red, and she glanced down at her mug.

"I enjoyed that time. So very, very much. Dorothy ... I never wanted to be the best. I only tried to be the best so I wouldn't ... lose everything."

Dorothy's expression flattened.

"Wait ... you really are being serious right now?"

Eleanor nodded.

"I wanted to be carefree. Easy-going. Not let anyone or anything get to me. Like you."

"Prefect ...."

Eleanor's expression darkened.

"Can you not?"

"Sorry, Eleanor. Force of habit."

"See, that's what I hate: Being the Prefect. Little Miss Perfect. Manicured, trimmed, precise. For the last few years, I have been forcing myself to continue. For the sake of the Commonwealth. And to not ever be ... weak. I  _want_ to be weak, Dorothy. I want to break down, and cry, and laugh, and let my hair down and ... and just  _be_ ."

Dorothy wasn't quite sure what to say. She reached out for Eleanor, and the woman responded by grasping her hand, desperately. Interlocking their fingers once more, and squeezing.

"Eleanor. I ... I never knew," She shrugged. "Do you wanna hear something silly?"

Eleanor met her eyes. She blinked. Dorothy's eyes glimmered in the dim and flickering light. What was it she saw there? Sadness? Could the unflappable, unsinkable Dorothy MacBean have a negative emotion?

"I really enjoyed that time too. I mean ... really, really enjoyed it."

"Dorothy ...."

"I guess I just assumed it didn't mean that much to you. We never did anything else, you know. You went back to being miss serious. Actually, I think you became even more so."

"I did," she whispered. "I was terrified to be expelled. Certain that ... well, it would be the end of me. I never, ever wanted to feel that kind of terror ever again."

Dorothy nodded.

"So, I kinda thought that you had fun at the time, but it didn't mean anything to you."

They sat in silence for a moment. Dorothy gently brushed her thumb along Eleanor's hand. She blinked, and looked down at their joined hands.

"Dorothy?"

"Eleanor?"

"I wish that I had known. If I had known it had meant that much to you ... well, I don't know what I would've done."

Dorothy nodded.

"I guess if I knew you wanted to lighten up, I would've helped you with that."

Silence fell again. Eleanor wasn't quite sure what to think of the silence. Dorothy's touch was soft. Soothing. The feeling of her hand in hers was ... well, it was right. It felt natural. It felt like something they should have done a very long time ago.

"Can you?"

"What, help you?"

Eleanor nodded, her cheeks turning red.

"Well. I'd say you've come a long way so far. For example, I'd say that you're a bit buzzed right now. That's lighter than you usually are."

Eleanor nodded, with a wide grin.

"Only a little. I have not had nearly the alcohol you have tonight."

Dorothy grinned.

"I had those crisps though."

Eleanor nodded seriously.

"That helps so much, especially with this Champagne, now."

Dorothy laughed.

"See?"

Silence again. This time Eleanor felt comfortable in the silence. She hesitated for one moment, then she shifted her chair closer to Dorothy's. It awkwardly scraped along the floor.

Dorothy grinned, watching her with amusement.

"What are you trying to do, missy?"

Eleanor blushed.

"I .. I mean. Just be closer to you?"

Dorothy laughed.

"I'm teasing ya."

She stood up, pulling Eleanor up with her. She wrapped an arm around Eleanor's waist, keeping their hands clenched tightly together.

Eleanor blushed, and looked down at the table.

"Close enough?" Dorothy said in a teasing voice.

Eleanor leaned in and awkwardly pressed her lips against Dorothy's.

It was quick, close-lipped, and Eleanor was fairly certain she had done it wrong.

She broke the kiss, blushing heavily, and fidgeted. Shyly, she looked up into Dorothy's eyes.

And Dorothy had a huge, silly grin on her face.

"Now that," Dorothy said, "constitutes an antic."

Eleanor's blush deepened.

"An ... an antic?" She sounded confused.

"Indeed. However, there's a thing about an antic."

"What's that?" Eleanor asked thinly.

"There's never just one. It's why they always say 'antics' ."

"What do you ...."

Eleanor never finished her sentence. Dorothy's lips captured hers. They pressed in tightly, and yet tenderly. Slightly open, chewing and caressing. Eleanor, in shock, wasn't certain how to respond.

After a moment, Dorothy broke the kiss.

Eleanor panted.

"Oh. That. Oh!"

Dorothy laughed, grinning widely.

"Good?"

Eleanor nodded.

"Hmmm. We better make sure of that."

Dorothy leaned back in, and Eleanor gasped. Dorothy's teeth lightly captured Eleanor's lower lip, teasing, pressing there firmly. Her lips parted ever so slightly. and Dorothy's lips shifted. Eleanor's eyes fluttered closed, and she grasped Dorothy's shoulder with her free hand.

The kiss lingered and deepened. Dorothy pressed her tongue just past Eleanor's lips, grazing her teeth, and teasing Eleanor's own tongue. Eleanor responded, brushing hers. Their tongues tangled, danced, wrestled.

Eleanor shivered. Her spine tingled. Heat rose to her face, and to the rest of her. Her knees were rubbery, and she was glad that Dorothy had a solid hold on her. She would have fallen. 

The kiss broke, and again Eleanor panted. Her body was pressed very tightly against Dorothy's. Awareness of this fact made her blush very red. She managed to hold Dorothy's gaze. Saw her expression of mingled amusement and passion. 

Eleanor swallowed, and tentatively leaned back in for another kiss. And another followed. And another.

Perhaps Eleanor had fallen.

She felt Dorothy guide her backwards. She didn't resist. She focused on the kisses, allowing Dorothy to do as she willed.

She felt Dorothy ease her down, onto her back. The kisses didn't stop, And Eleanor didn't even once consider resisting.

The kiss broke. Eleanor was lying on her bed. Gazing up, into Dorothy's eyes. Their hands were still clasped. Eleanor's free hand rested lightly on Dorothy's shoulder. Dorothy was leaning over her, a soft smile on her face. A tender look in her eyes. Her eyebrows arched. She winked, and shrugged.

Eleanor took a very deep breath, releasing it in a sighing gasp.

"I'd say that constitutes a good kiss," Dorothy smirked.

Eleanor cupped the back of Dorothy's head.

"I think that this is how they do it, yes?" She said with a grin, and pulled Dorothy's face down to hers.

****

Eleanor felt very warm and safe. Awareness was slowly returning to her, and the feeling grew. It usually dwindled as she felt herself pulled out of dream and into reality.

Her eyes opened slowly. Light was streaming in through the open curtains. A pair of arms were wrapped around her waist. A soft, warm body pressed against her back. Her legs were intertwined with those of the girl behind her.

Eleanor felt happy. More than she had in a very, very long time.

She closed her eyes, and settled her head back down onto her pillow, deciding to simply bask in the moment.

She heard a sigh behind her. Felt lips gently press against her shoulder.

"Morning," she whispered. She didn't open her eyes, or move. She didn't want to. She wanted to stay just like this for as long as she could. Eternity would be too short a time.

"Morning," Dorothy replied quietly.

"Happy day-after-Christmas," Eleanor said teasingly. Dorothy laughed.

"Yeah. That."

She kissed Eleanor's cheek, and Eleanor shifted in Dorothy's arms. Facing her. Pressing her body against Dorothy's. Relishing the softness, the shared warmth of the intimate contact. Their lips met. The sensation of safety, of belonging, was magnified many times.

Eleanor sighed as the kiss broke.

"Thank you," Eleanor said quietly.

"For what," Dorothy said with a grin.

"For giving me the best Christmas present ever."

Dorothy kissed her again.

"Well. Least I could do. I mean ... well, it had been so long, yeah? The last Christmas we were together was very special. And ... well, I guess I just wanted this one to be special too."

"It was," Eleanor whispered.

"Yeah. Good. Yeah, very good. So ... we make it a thing."

"A ... thing?"

"Well, I don't know where we'll be next Christmas. If there even will be one. It might be our last ...."

"No, don't say that."

"It's true though, Eleanor. We spies don't exactly have a long life expectancy."

Eleanor sighed.

"I suppose not."

"So this might be our last Christmas."

"If it is, perish the thought ... then I suppose I cannot entirely regret it."

Dorothy nodded.

"Yeah. So we might not see next Christmas, but if we do let's make  _that_ our Last Christmas. And if it isn't, then the next Christmas after that's our last one. And so on."

Eleanor frowned.

"I don't know if I entirely like that. Wouldn't it be better to say this is our  _First_ Christmas? The first of many?"

"Well, I guess the first like this. Not the  _first_ first."

Eleanor grinned.

"We were children then. That does not count."

Dorothy laughed.

"Okay. So this was  _our_ first Christmas, then."

"Yes," Eleanor nodded.

They kissed softly.

"So," Eleanor began.

"Yes?"

"What are you doing New Years' Eve?"

Dorothy smirked.

"You?"

Eleanor couldn't help but blush.

"I ... I guess that would be nice."

Dorothy giggled softly.

"Get more Champagne. We'll start out next year the right way."

Eleanor nodded.

"Alright. It's ... well. Dare I say .…"

"A date? Please do."

Their lips met again. Their embrace tightened. And for a moment, just for one more moment, they lost themselves in themselves, heedless of the cold and uncaring world that lay just beyond the thin walls of their room.

 


End file.
